


Feed on my Restless Soul

by FallenPissyBird



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Crying, Drug-Induced Sex, Face-Fucking, Fuck Or Die, Gang Rape, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Praise Kink, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8220625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenPissyBird/pseuds/FallenPissyBird
Summary: Sometimes Jason just needs to do things on his own. Roy managed to convince him to install a helmet cam to at least allow him to watch over his reckless boyfriend, but that means that Roy is stuck hundreds of miles away while the mission goes awry.
And then Jason turns the helmet cam off.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry.  
> Thanks to my angel of a beta arse-in-arsenal
> 
> Also, this fic depicts graphic rape. I included it in the warning and the tags, I'm just being super sure that no one who doesn't want to read rape stumbles upon this.

"I don't know Roy, I really think it makes you sound like a little hooker." Jason's low chuckle was so abstract considering how the man was running his knife through someone's gut. He sounded so casual- at complete ease as he tore the knife out, and in the same fluid movement was putting a bullet between someone's eyes.  
  
"Awww don't be like that Daddy-O." Roy was grinning as he watched his boyfriend's seamless fighting on the screen. He had all five monitors filled with Jason, but the one in the middle was the one that was actually hooked up to the helmet camera. The other four were from the security feed in the crime lord's extensive building. The guy probably spent a fortune on his cyber security, but it had taken Roy all of seven seconds to break in. "I thought you were a real gone cat but I guess I was wrong."   
  
Jason's laugh was louder that time, not just a chuckle. It was the kind of laugh that made Roy's bones warm, made him feel like he could conquer anything. He got that laugh from Jason, from Jason Todd. It was all for him, and god it made him feel invincible. Laughs like that made him wonder why he had ever done heroin in the first place. "I swear if you call me Daddy-O in bed, I will smother you with a pillow."   
  
"Awww c'mon Jaybird." Roy smiled as he leaned back in the chair, stretching his arms over his head as he did so. "That's just how the slang was when I was a kid! Not like you can even talk, you big stoolie."   
  
"Hey man." Jason roundhoused some goon to his face, effectively breaking his jaw at least. Those thighs put real power behind his kicks, and Roy loved it. "Don't be mockin' my street life." He spoke the sentence in the street accent he usually put in effort to hide, much to Roy's disdain. He found the accent both adorable and hot. Adorable because he could imagine a little curly-headed Jaybird talking big words to anyone, even the Bat himself. And hot because the gothamite had a tendency to forget to fight the accent when he was horny, and Roy would be damned if he didn't get hard after a few dirty words growled in his ear by Jason's rumbling voice, laden with a rough accent.   
  
"Oh golly gee, I'd never do that!" Roy said with a grin stretching over his face as he watched his boyfriend take out the final two goons in the hallway.   
  
"Okay Harper, you are _so_ getting an ass kicking when I get home." The man's words were harsh, but his tone was entirely playful. It made Roy wonder how he got so lucky to have the notoriously ruthless vigilante be his.   
  
"Only if you kiss it all better when you’re done.” Roy joked right back, earning another casual chuckle from the Red Hood. However, the smile faded from the archer’s face when he saw activity on the laptop he had resting on his lap. He had it hooked into the crime lord’s system, so he was able to silently monitor their communication without their knowledge. It looked like the big guy in charge had caught wind of Red Hood’s interference, and was putting gears in motion to stop him. “Hey Jay, looks like they’re releasing some kind of airborne chemical into the ventilation system. I mean, your helmet’s filter makes that a bit of a moot point, so looks like they didn’t do their research.”   
  
“Are you hacked into their systems, Roy?” Jason asked with a bit of a sigh in his words, progressing down the next hallway towards the stairs. “I thought we talked about this; I’d let you set up cameras in the helmet if-”   
  
“If it meant you’d get to go in solo, yeah I know, I know.” Roy said, eyes still locked on the laptop screen. “But I can’t help it Jay, I like to meddle. I’m a meddler. Meddling is in my blood. Especially when the man I love is involved, and won’t let me come along because he is not a gone cat, not even close to-”   
  
“Roy.” Jason cut him off, and it was with the voice he used when he was upset- bordering on possibly angry.   
  
“Okay, okay… I’ll disconnect from their system.” He grumbled out, but he did no such thing. He was just going to be a bit more silent about his meddling from then on out. When it came down to it, Jason’s safety was more important to him than his temper and his inexplicable need to do things all on his own. “Just, be careful would you?”   
  
“I’m always careful.” He grumbled back, as if he was still being a pissy bird about Roy hacking into the system. “Besides, like you said- the helmet will take care of the toxins.”   
  
“Yeah…” Roy muttered back as he leaned forward again, watching his boyfriend take the stairs two at a time. He switched the security camera as Jason went, eyes narrowed as if he was trying to see the toxin in the air. They hadn’t mentioned what it was, only that Red Hood would be an excellent test subject. Was it lethal? Powerful? It had to be breathed in, right? Right? Oh shit, what if- “Jason, you don’t have any skin exposed, do you?” Roy asked as he took note of how the next hallway his boyfriend went down was void of any henchmen. That was off. He had been fighting hoards earlier, and Roy flipped through security to see that there were goons the next level up, all waiting by the stairs. What were they waiting for?   
  
“Skin?” Jason asked with a grunt, before his helmet was pitched downward to look for anything of the sort. “I mean, not really. I got grazed by a bullet earlier and there’s some bleeding on my shoulder, but-”   
  
“ _Cover it._ ” Roy cut him off, earning him a sigh from his boyfriend but he still obeyed the snapping order. “Get past this floor as quick as you can, I think this is where they’re releasing whatever it is in the vents and I don’t like how empty it is.”   
  
“Jeez baby, you’re really worrying too much.” Jason chuckled, but there was something… off about it. His voice, it was too loose, too lax. He had been grumpy before, and when something made Jason grumpy, Roy was able to count on him being grumpy for the rest of the night. But instead he was chuckling, drawing it out in the way that made Roy squirm in his seat when it was just the two of them, and he had called him _baby_ .   
  
“Jason, back out of there.” Roy said, a hint of pleading in his voice. “Go back down a level. Bind up the shoulder graze, take a breather, and don’t go back up there until every inch of skin is covered.”   
  
“Tch, fine…” The gunman drew out the word long and slow, before he was taking a few steps backwards and then turning around towards the door. “Jeez baby, you’re real hot when you get all bossy like that. Have I ever toldya that before?” Roy was too focused on getting Jason out of there to hear the rough accent now overcoming his words. He watched gloved fingers reach out for the handle and try to turn it, but it didn’t budge. Locked. “Mmm, weird…” Jason’s voice was too heavy, too drawled out.   
  
Roy snapped his gaze down to the laptop, trying to hack further in to take control of the system. It would alert them of his presence, but he didn’t care. He needed to cancel whatever was being pumped into Jason’s air, he had to help his Jaybird before it got too far into his body and hurt him. “Break the door down Jay, get out of there, now.” Roy barked out sharply.   
  
His green eyes snapped back up on the monitors to see Jason give a weak slam into the door, and then another. The door didn’t budge. Of course it didn’t, the guy was barely putting any muscle into it- it was like he wasn’t trying. “Fuck babe. It’s not… moving.” He sounded out of breath now, as if the two weak attempts for freedom had been taxing on the man who ran marathons for fun and then still had energy to fight crime and have sex. Not at the same time, obviously, but same day. “It’s uh, really warm in here Roy, I’m… not feeling too great.”   
  
“Jason, look for an exit.” Roy said, frantically trying to gain control of the network now. Too late, what if he was too late? No no no, he couldn’t be too late, Jason was going to be fine- he was always fine. Why wasn’t he moving?! “Jason!” Roy barked out, but still the gunman just stood there, breathing heavily with his hand on the door handle.   
  
“Roy, this… I think know what this is...” Jason breathed out, his voice sounding labored and wet. “I mean, it feels really familiar.” Roy listened to his boyfriend as he also flipped through the security footage, before noticing the goons were on the move.   
  
“Jay, _do something!_ ” Roy said in desperation, his barking orders now sounding more pleading. “There are men heading your way, you gotta snap out of it, you have to _move!_ ”   
  
“Roy…” Why was his voice sounding so needing, why did he sound- oh no. Roy’s eyes widened as it all clicked in his head, and he was on his feet and staring helplessly at the security cameras as the men burst through the door. “B-baby I’m sorry… don’t. Don’t want you to see this.”   
  
“Jaybird, don’t you dare.” Roy spit out as the gloved hands reached up towards the helmet. “Jay, Jason, don’t. _Don’t_ !” The camera feed from the helmet went dead, along with the audio link. “ _Jason!_ ” Stupid, stupid fucking idiot, how could he, why did he-?! Roy wanted to scream, wanted to throw everything off the table, but he didn’t have time for that. He had to get to Jason.   
  
He suited up in record time, pulling on his armor and costume as he grabbed his bow and quiver on his way out. He got into his favorite car, the one with the monitor on the dash so he could drive and keep an eye on Jason at the same time. But as he pulled out of the garage and into the street, and resumed the feed from the security cameras, things were looking much worse and he didn’t know if he could stomach watching.   
  
The burly henchmen had easily tied Jason’s wrists behind his back, and were now pushing him down the hallway towards the boss’s office, and the man wasn’t even fighting. He just stumbled along, his body language screaming how hot and heavy his limbs were. He seemed clumsy, disoriented, wrong. This wasn’t the graceful Red Hood who could easily dance around a whole swarm of thugs and still be holding idle conversation over a comm-link. This was something else entirely.   
  
The lead bodyguard grabbed the back of Jason’s jacket as they reached the boss’s door, and opened it up before he quite literally threw the man inside. Roy swallowed heavily as he broke speed limit laws, passing the triple digit marker on the speedometer as the boss walked around his desk to where Jason had landed on his knees. “So, this is the Red Hood.” The man spoke loud and proud, as if he had already won.   
  
But then the rich moron was reaching towards Jason’s helmet, fingers digging in under the reinforced red plastic, before he was yelping and holding his hand in pain. Roy let out a loud laugh, bitter and resentful. “That’s right motherfucker. You really think there isn’t security in his helmet? Idiot.” The bodyguards began to run forward, but the boss just held up his good hand with eyes narrowed dangerously at Jason.   
  
“Untie his wrists.” The man’s gaze never left Jason, even as the head guard stepped forward and cut the zip-tie with his knife. Jason’s hands fell heavy by his sides, and Roy just wished he could see where he was looking, see if he had the expression on his face that meant he was deep in thought and planning his next move. “Take off the helmet, Red Hood.” The boss then ordered, and Roy regretted ever wishing he could see Jason’s face.   
  
What was he doing?! Why was he listening to the bastard?! Roy wanted to scream at him, tell him he shouldn’t even dare take it off, but gloved hands were raising and running along the back of the helmet. He undid the catches, and the steam from the compression hissed out before Jason was pulling the hood off and setting it on the floor.   
  
Roy felt sick when he saw the smile stretch over the boss’s face. “Oh damn. He’s pretty.” He was stepping closer to Jason, to his Jason, his sweet Jaybird, and there was something so wrong with the gothamite’s expression. He looked so compliant, face a deep crimson, lips too wet, eyes hazy. Even from the security feed, Roy could see how his boyfriend’s chest was moving too quickly- he was panting. “He’s perfect. How long was he down there?”   
  
“He went over the limit by thirty seven seconds, sir.” A woman in the corner reported, holding a tablet as she read off of the screen. “Which means the levels in his blood could prove to be lethal, but chances of any resistance are reduced to zero percent.”   
  
“Has this level been tested on anyone before?” The man asked, reaching forward to run his fingers through Jason’s hair, making Roy press down harder on the gas pedal. Too far away, he was hours away even at the speed he was going.   
  
“No, not this amount.” The assistant said, eyes narrowed as she studied how Jason tilted his head in a display of submission. She tapped her fingers on the screen, as if taking fucking notes about it.   
  
“Mmm. Good.” The man chuckled, his expression filthy as he looked down at Jason. “Well then, Red Hood. You want satisfaction? Get to work, pretty boy.”   
  
No, this was wrong. Roy tore his gaze away from the screen as Jason pitched forward before the man could even finish talking, rubbing his face in the boss’s clothed crotch. His fingers reached up to grab his hips, scooting closer on his knees as he undid the bastard’s pants button with his teeth. The archer grit his teeth, his eyes burning with rage. He couldn’t stand this, he couldn’t stand the thought of Jason being used like this, not again. Not after his childhood. This couldn’t be happening, not to him…   
  
“There’s a good boy.” The boss crooned to Jason, and Roy glanced back over to see his boyfriend mouthing at the sicko’s dick through his boxers, wetting the material with his tongue. “What a pretty man you are. You’re going to be good, aren’t you? You’ll be my good boy.”   
  
Roy couldn’t do it. He flipped the monitor off, feeling a sick rage building in his chest as tears burned his eyes. The words echoed in his head, feeding the pressure in his chest until it was exploding out of his throat in a scream. Helpless, useless, hopeless. He couldn’t believe he couldn’t do _anything_ . Jason, just focus on getting to Jason.  
  
_Hang in there Jaybird_.

 

\---

 

Good boy. He could be a good boy.  
  
Fingers tightened in his hair as he looked up at the man standing over him, smiling down at him like he was a juicy piece of meat and the man was starving. He could be good. He had to be good. God it was too hot in here- his jacket felt too heavy, his armor squeezing too tightly on his skin. Focus, he had to focus on what he was doing, and then he’d be a good boy.  
  
His tongue ran up the man’s cock, the fabric rough against his wet tongue until he got to the elastic and was grabbing it between his teeth. He pulled it down, his fingers helping until he could release his teeth from the clothing and focus on the cock that sprang free. He ran the flat of his tongue along the underside, drawing a shuddering gasp from the man above him. Swirling his tongue around the slit, collecting the bitter precum and wetting it further drew a growl. “Enough teasing.”  
  
And then the fingers were tightening, pulling at his hair and forcing him forward. Jason’s eyes widened at the suddenness of it, and he had to be careful of his teeth as he was given no time to prepare himself. He winced, tears filling his eyes as the cock hit the back of throat and curled down, leaving him choking. “Pretty, so pretty…” He heard above him, before he was being pulled back, only the head of the man’s cock left in his mouth before it slammed in again.  
  
“Take off his jacket.” The man ordered in panting breath, and Jason barely comprehended the words until his arms were being yanked back when his leather jacket was pulled off his shoulders. “And the armor. Use- ah fuck, so good- use his knife. I’m sure cutting it off won’t trigger the security.”  
  
His knife was pulled out of the thigh holster, and his eyes rolled back at a particularly harsh thrust into his throat. He did nothing- did not fight, complain, even move his arms- as a finger hooked into the back of his armor to pull it away from his skin, and then it was replaced by the knife. The boss was right- the security didn’t cover being cut off by his own knife.  
  
Jason winced as the knife cut into his skin as well as the armor, his teeth reflexively lowering and thusly scraping along the man’s cock in his mouth. It caused the boss to wrench Jason’s head off of his dick, giving the gothamite a chance to suck in lungfuls of air as precum and spit dribbled down his chin. “Fuckin’ little bitch.” The man snarled, moving his hand out of Jason’s hair to strike him across the face.  
  
“Sorry boss, looks like we cut him up a little.” The henchman said, humor in his tone. As if to emphasize his point, he let the knife cut into Jason’s skin again, drawing a noise of pain from the man who’s skin felt too sensitive, too hot to be cut open like that.  
  
The leader looked ready to beat them senseless for cutting into the canvas of Jason's skin, but he stopped and looked down at the man when the pained noise crawled out between wet lips. “Damn.” He downright growled, before he nodded at the men. “Finish undressing him, and then give me the knife.” He barked out his command before he went to lean against the desk, hand slowly pumping his wet cock.  
  
Jason couldn't even bring his electrified body to fight back as the hands pulled off his armor, before one of the henchmen grabbed his neck to pull him to his feet. The gothamite opened his mouth as the hand squeezed tighter, as if threatening to cut off air to his already desperate lungs. The henchman responsible just smiled, as if he was enjoying how much power he held over the infamous vigilante. “Ya love this, don't you?” He growled, flipping the knife over in his hand so the blade was pointing to the ground. He held eye contact with Jason as he cut off the man's belt, not breaking it even as it lowered to his pants. "Love bein' manhandled. Gettin' fucked. You're a real slut, ain'tcha?"  
  
Jason could feel his lungs burning, fire replacing the oxygen as the venom burned through the reserves of air that the tight grip prevented him from replenishing. Luckily, the brute loosened his fingers, expecting the vigilante to answer his questions. "N-nngh…" He tried to say no, tried to fight this goddamned trance he was in, but the more he tried to deny it, the more the poison burned his insides. He sucked in a breath, chest heaving as the men behind him reached around to undo the button of his pants and unzip them. They pushed them down to the floor, taking his briefs and cup down with them, allowing the henchman in front of him full access to his burning body.  
  
"That wasn't an answer, pretty boy." The brute pushed out through grit teeth, his hand moving from Jason's throat to his throbbing cock.  
  
The sudden grip to his dick nearly had him sobbing, the sensation driving straight through his flesh, his muscles, his bones. He couldn't focus on anything else, not the feeling of his boots being removed, nor the whispered words of the men behind him asking if they'd get a turn. He felt like he was being shocked, the pleasure causing a deep ache in him as his hands gripped at the man's shoulders. "Yes!" He shouted out, fingers digging into the muscle as the bastard just _smiled_. "Y-yes, _aah_ _fuck_ , I love it!"  
  
"Beg." The monster moved his hand slow, the dryness like sandpaper along his hypersensitive dick. "Go on, beg for it. If you love it. _Beg_."  
  
Jason shuddered, a whimper tearing from his throat as every aspect of his personality, who he was as a man, screamed against it. He couldn't beg, he _wouldn't_. He glanced over at the man in charge, who was just watching, hand moving slow over his own dick. "Did you not hear me, slut?" Suddenly the point of his own knife was pressing into his exposed throat, stuttering his breath. "Don't look to him for salvation. He won't fuck you until you beg for it like the whore you are. Don't you wanna get fucked, pretty thing?" Oh god yes he needed to get _fucked,_ he needed to drive this toxin out of him before it _suffocated_ him, he needed _release_. "Then _beg_."  
  
The knife pushed forward, beading blood at the tip until it was fat enough to roll down his slick skin. Jason's breath was still panting, the room too hot, his head spinning. He needed this, his skin was too tight and the drive for pleasure was downright ruining him. He needed to come, he felt his mind shutting down everything outside of that desiring _need_ , until the word ghosted out of his lips.  
  
"Please."  
  
He was pushed to his knees, and he took that cue to crawl towards the man leaning against the desk.  
  
" _Please_."  
  
Sitting upright in front of the demon, reaching out to grab at his cock and run his wet lips over the head.  
  
"Please, oh god _please_ fuck me, I need you, please…"  
  
_Good boy_. The words were heavy in the room, until fingers were suddenly in his hair, wrenching him up until he was thrown against the table. The breath was knocked out of him at the force, the edge of the desk digging into his abdomen as a hand grabbed at the back of his neck and kept him bent over. He vaguely heard the tear of something plastic, before the monster thrust into him.  
  
The sensation of pain was heightened by the drug, so when the man fucked hard into him, the burn of being filled so suddenly had the gunman sobbing. Tears fell to the wood of the desk, his fingers digging into the furniture as if he could dig past the coat of staining and drive the splinters into his fingers. The boss gave the younger man no time to adjust or breathe, simply set an erratic pace with grunts of pleasure punching out of him. "Fuck he's tight. _Real_ tight. God _damn_ I wanna keep him."  
  
The voice was muffled, and Jason could barely grasp his words. It was like he was underwater, deep under red waves that were too hot and suffocating and painful, and the voice behind him was meters away, floating through the space to reach the drowning man's ears. "If he survives, I don't see why you can't keep him." The voice of that bitch of an assistant swam by his head, coming from even further away.  
  
"Ain't that a thought." The hand around the back of his neck suddenly wrapped around to the front, pulling Jason's heaving chest off the cold wood so the man could press their bodies together. "You'd like that, wouldn'tcha?" He kept fucking him, each thrust pushing the air from Jason's lungs in a desperate pant. "To be my whore for good? To get filled with my cum whenever I damn well please? To suck me off in front'a everyone in my business meetin's?"  
  
_Yes oh god please_. Jason couldn't think past the feeling of his dick sliding along the wood of the table, the way the burn of being fucked mercilessly was beginning to feel so _good_ , the way he was so close, _so close_. "Pl-please…" He gasped out, not even knowing what he was begging for anymore.  
  
"So fuckin' pretty." The boss moved his hand to hold Jason's chin, fingers pressing in hard enough to leave angry bruises. He pulled his head to the side, evil eyes examining Jason's face in a way that made him feel absolutely filthy. "So pretty when you're cryin'." Harder, faster, making Jason grit his teeth. "Come on my dick pretty thing. Come from this. You know you gotta."  
  
Yes _yes_ he needed to come, he couldn't think of anything else. The pleasure was building, he needed to get the burning out of him- then it would stop, then it would have to stop. He wouldn't have been able to hold back even if he tried, the pleasure hitting his gut as he came hard, wet eyes squeezing shut as a shout escaped him. It felt so good, too good, making him think for just a brief moment, that it was different. That the man behind him wasn't some scummy crime lord, that the grip on his chin and his hips were rough from all that archery, that it was " _Roy_ …!"  
  
There was the briefest of pauses as the hips stilled for a moment, before Jason was being slammed forward again. This time it was painful, hand pressing him down to the table as a punishment for his voice. The glow from his orgasm wasn't there, the exhaustion from being satisfied was replaced with the constant throb of desire, of _need_. No no no this was wrong, the poison wasn't wearing off! Why wasn't it wearing off?!  
  
"Gimme the knife." The leader growled behind Jason, who was squirming against the table, needing more movement, needing to be fucked more. The man was still deep inside of him, but he wasn't fucking moving, and a whine clawed out of Jason's wet lips as the side of his face pressed to the wood. "Shuddup you fuckin' whore." The man growled, before the burn of sharp metal began cutting into his body.  
  
The whine cut off in the gothamite's throat, turning it into a choked cry of pain. The oversensitivity of his skin, splitting in way of the blade had the tears squeezing from his blue-green eyes. No no no it was _agony,_ he couldn't _breathe_ , he had to _STOP._ When the knife lifted, Jason drew in shuddering breath, praying that meant it was over, but he was soon proven wrong when the blade cut another deep line into the skin of his back shoulder. It nearly tore a scream out of him, and each noise of agony that escaped the vigilante’s lips had the cock buried inside of him throbbing.  
  
It was only a few moments, but the cutting continued across Jason's back, from shoulder to shoulder, spelling out something the vigilante couldn't read. Each second was a blinding red pain, leaving Jason gasping silent pleas for it to stop, just for it to _stop_ . And then the bloody knife was thrown to the desk, and the crime lord grabbed Jason's wrists to suddenly wrench him back. The poison ensured the gothamite's cock was hard despite the pain of his fresh wounds, just as the noises of breathless pain and the way Jason squirmed around his dick kept the other man's cock hard. "This ain't your boyfriend, Hood." He growled in Jason's ear, pulling his wrists harder so another song of pain escaped bared teeth. "You're my whore now. You hear me?"   
  
He didn't bother waiting for a response. He simply pulled back before he was slamming back in again, punching breath from the vigilante's wet lips, forcing him to cry out each time his prostate was fucked against. "You’re _my_ filthy fuckin' whore, _my_ tight whore, so good… good boy Hood, good boy..." He spoke the words like a mantra, like a prayer to Jason's imprisonment on his cock.   
  
Jason knew he couldn't hold back, knew he'd have to come again soon. His fingers clenched and unclenched, searching for something to grab despite how they were restrained behind his back. He could feel the burn of his cut skin, the ooze of blood trickling from his wounds to roll down the creases of his muscles, ebbed on faster by the sheen of sweat. Noises of strained pleasure were punished out of him as his arms were pulled back further, arching his back as the other man angled his cock deep just right inside of him.  
  
“Your boyfriend ain't comin’ for ya, Hood.” Words breathed hot over his ear, skin prickling as sweat ran down the back of his curled neck. “It’s just you an’ me. You're all mine now. My pretty _whore_.” Harder, deeper, Jason wanted all of it, wanted to drown in pleasure and burn alive in his shame. “No one's comin’ for you but me. You say that bastard’s name again and I'll cut your tongue out.”  
  
Name, what name? Not the name that was dancing on his lips, right? No, no. He couldn't say that name, couldn't let himself be fooled, couldn't close his wet eyes and picture his redheaded archer. _“Fuck Jaybird you feel so good.”  
  
_ “A-aah, I just-!” So close.  
  
 _“What do you need baby?” Freckled arms, sliver of emerald surrounding blown pupils, strands of hair falling from the messy bun. Roy, breathing in, soft and hard and fast, holding, praising, velvet lips against flushed skin.  
  
_ Don't say his name, don't be fooled. This was not heaven, with his golden deity in the mortal form of fire hair and whispered adoration. This was hell, this was his punishment for coming back to life all those years ago. This was _hell_.  
  
“So close, so-!” The man's garbled breath was choked off as his pace stuttered. And then the vigilante was empty, the cock pulled out of his drugged body as the bastard tore the plastic from his cock to pump his cum onto Jason's lower back. Curses melted into praise as the man found his climax, and the gothamite found nothing but a hollow painful lust that still ate at his aching bones.  
  
The grip on his wrists was finally relinquished, giving the gothamite the freedom to wrap his hands around his throbbing cock, wet from his earlier orgasm. Unfortunately, a hand on his shoulder stopped him, pain flashing brilliant white across his vision as merciless pressure was applied to the wounds painted across his back. “I promised my men a little treat tonight, Hood.” His voice was tired and satiated, pride also hiding between the words. “So hold that release. I'm sure they'll be happy to help you with that.”  
  
Pulled away from the desk, shoved down to his knees. The sound of zippers and hungry chuckles filled his head, and the steady tapping of fingernails against a tablet. She was still taking notes. The thought left Jason with a ghost of anger, but the taste of cock in his mouth was distracting enough as his hair was grabbed and pulled.  
  
“What a nice mouth.”  
  
“Goddamn he's fuckin’ _hungry_ for it.”  
  
“Make him cry again, it turns me on.”  
  
Choking, burning, no air. He swallowed as he was told to, and let them come on his face when they desired it. Anything to make them happy, anything to allow the release he craved. How many times had he come? How many times had pleasure offered a momentary bliss of electricity, only to fade as sharp as it had come and leave him with the same burning need? He lost count.  
  
Tears mixed with the white fluid on his face, and he didn't fight as one of the thugs got on his knees behind him and forced him forward. He forgot how to fight as a cock was driven back inside of his ass, filling him like he craved, and another was shoved back down his throat to drive the point in harder- he was a whore.  
  
“So good, so _good_.” A mantra of praise, what he always wanted. His cock throbbed heavy between his legs, swaying as he was fucked hard and fast.  
  
“Want him on his back.” Words pushed out between thrusts, between the sounds of skin slapping against skin. “Want those pretty thighs wrapped around me. _Fuck_ I bet they're strong.” Hands, bruising grip, digging into his hips before moving down to his thighs. “Bet they could fuckin’ _murder_.”  
  
 _“Your thighs are a goddamn dream, Jaybird.” Another hickey sucked into sensitive skin, just as teasing as the song of his voice. Early morning light filtered through the crack in the curtains, falling across the freckles of his back. Did he know how much Jason adored him?  
  
_ Another pump of cum into his stomach before the cock was pulled from his throat, allowing him to suck in oxygen. Not enough. The releases weren't enough, he was coming dry now. The panting wasn't enough, his lungs were empty, burning for more. The touches, the contact, the fucking. None of it was enough. “I-I can't…” Can't what? Breathe? Think? Survive?  
  
The next cock in his ass drove harder, punching his desperate oxygen from his lungs. It was so good, but it wasn't enough. His eyes rolled back, face pressed against the floor as the hand pressed to the back of his head kept him there.  
  
 _“I wanna take you slow, Jaybird.” Panted words, just as drawling as the pace the archer set. Each slow thrust had Jason wanting to scream; he was coming undone, he was unraveling in his lover's hands. But he was safe here.  
  
_ “N-no…” Words pushed out of clenched teeth. Clacking fingernails paused, but the hard thrusts did not. Not until he was done, not until he spilled everything into Jason, not until he left the man ruined. His voice was a ghost of what it used to be, each pant weakening as he felt crushed under his own skin. “C-can’t- I can't-”  
  
“Sir.” The woman's voice spoke up as another man positioned himself behind the man's limp body on the floor. “I believe the poison is winning.”  
  
“What?!” The boss barked out, standing from his desk and storming over. He knelt in front of Jason, grabbing his chin like he had before, and forced him back to his knees. “Come on Hood. You like this, don't you?” The words were encouraging, but the tone was purely challenging. “You can beat this, my good boy. My sweet whore. You're strong, aren't you?”  
  
“Stronger than anyone.” That voice. He wasn't supposed to say his name, but then there was an arrowhead looking right at him, drenched in blood from where it had just pushed through the back of the man's head.  
  
He wasn't supposed to even think of him, but then the boss’s body fell limp on the floor, followed by the henchmen who tried to put up a fight and failed. He was unbeatable.  
  
He wasn't supposed to even hope that he would come for him, but then the bow was clattering to the ground and hands were holding his shoulders, preventing his limp body from collapsing.  
  
 _“Jaybird?” Fingers dancing over his sweaty cheek, hot breath mingling in burning lungs as they both smiled. “You good? I didn't fuck you too hard, did I?”  
  
_ “Jaybird?” Fingers wiping gunk from his shameful face, breathing quick and worried and shallow. No smiling. Just tears. Fear rolling down his face in fat drops, words stuttered out of him in agony. “Oh god, Jaybird. No no no, I'm sorry, I-”  
  
He wasn't supposed to say his name. He could feel the memory of the knife cutting into his back still, could feel the burn of blood and pain as the slur was carved into his skin like a brand. But he didn't care anymore. He was gone, he wanted to live in his fantasy world, where the love of his life was the only one who could reach him. So he cut his words off before he could finish saying them, his voice raspy and strangled and in pain. “ _Roy._ ”  
  
His eyes rolled back as the last strand of defiance sent his body over the edge, and he blacked out completely. His body pitched forward into Roy's arms, who caught him and held him tightly, repeating his name like a desperate mantra. He tried not to look at the bleeding wounds that was now a permanence on his lover's skin. Tried not to spell them out in his head and imagine all the horrible things they did to him. But the wounds were crimson and consuming, drawing the eye like a moth to a flame.  
  
WHORE.


End file.
